


With You, Always

by avengersasssemble



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Coping Mechanisms, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Hostage Situation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Tony, Loving Steve, Loving each other, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phonetic Spelling of a German Accent, Rescue Mission, Spanking, Steve returns the gift, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trust Issues, dub con, i.e. Tony's hormonal fantasy with Cap, underage blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersasssemble/pseuds/avengersasssemble
Summary: For their fifth anniversary, Steve is surprised when Tony gives him a shoebox instead of his usual gift. Inside, he finds books that Tony has written throughout the years, starring his husband and the one and only Captain America.Or: Tony trusts Steve with secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [snow.txt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336612) by [Sineala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/pseuds/Sineala). 



> Thanks to @blossomsinthemist for the beta!
> 
> @sineala's snow.txt has always been one of my favorite reads and I wanted to expand on the trope.
> 
> Check out out my other works [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersasssemble/works) and my [Tumblr](www.avengersasssemble.tumblr.com)!

Five years. Five beautiful, wonderful years filled with laughs and movie nights and embarrassed blushing when their rings clinked when they held hands. Five years of marriage, and Steve had never expected to see his husband be so nervous when they exchanged gifts. Usually, they tried to do something out of the ordinary, since they never felt they needed material items; Steve generally chose a charity to give money to in Tony’s name, whereas Tony gave the public school system an influx of supplies. However, this year, Tony had clearly done more than what he’d promised, as he was sitting across from Steve with a shoebox in his lap, knees bouncing and causing whatever was inside of it to thunk back and forth.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” He asked, reaching across the table to pick up Tony’s hand, “Did something happen? Do I need to bury whatever’s in the box?”

Tony laughed, and Steve felt his worry melt away.  He squeezed Tony’s hand to let him know it was okay.

“No. It’s—ah—it’s part of your gift,” Tony explained, setting the box on the table but not sliding it over, “I know—I know we don’t exchange physical gifts, but I’ve been thinking about this one for a while, and—”

He took a deep breath, so Steve squeezed his hand again, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

“—and I want to share this with you,” he continued, finally meeting Steve’s gaze to smile, “It’s a lot. I know I don’t talk a lot about my childhood, but I love you, and I trust you, so I wanted to trust you with this. You don’t have to respond to it at all, I just—I want you to have it. I want you to have all of me.”

“Oh, Tony,” Steve answered softly, a fond smile twitching up his lips, “Sweetheart, you know I love you for all of you, yeah? Even the parts I don’t know yet. You don’t have to look like you’re about to give me your third testicle in a box. I promise that I’ll love you just as much, if not more, after looking at whatever it is.”

“It’s not a third testicle, you bitch,” he grunted, making Steve giggle as he pushed the box over, “Here. I’m going down to the shop for a bit before bed, alright? I’ll see you in a bit.”

He stood and leaned over the table to kiss Steve’s forehead and cheek, squeezing his shoulder before hurrying out of the room like a bat out of hell. Steve watched him go, worry making him nibble his lip as he turned back to the box in front of him. Curiosity won out and he lifted the lid, immediately comforted by the familiar musk of old books. He reached in and pulled out composition books, some yellowed with age and others slightly tattered with use, each labeled and dated. Confused, he chose the oldest of the books to pick up first.

“Rescue Mission,” he murmured, tracing his fingertip over Tony’s familiar handwriting, “1982. Baby, you’ve kept this since you were a kid?”

Steve opened the book carefully, not wanting to damage any of the pages, and began to read:

_I never expected the Red Skull to be as crafty as he was. I thought HYDRA was just a bunch of goons in spandex. I’d been able to outrun most of them, since I was small and wily, but they’d managed to box me in and nab me. I didn’t go down easy, though, just like Cap taught me. I took out two of them with a few kicks, but they overpowered me and dragged me away._

He blinked and re-read the first paragraph, a million thoughts running through his brain. Cap? Cap was him, but this was young Tony, so he meant the Captain America that Howard had told him about. Not him, Steve Stark-Rogers. Clearly, this was fiction, but it seemed like Tony had put himself right into the old comics, fighting Skull and HYDRA. It was quite adorable, really, considering Tony was only twelve or so when he wrote it, so why was his husband so worried? Steve rolled his eyes fondly and settled back in his chair, propping his feet up as he kept reading:

_I wasn’t surprised that they threw me into a cell in the middle of a room. They must have known that I was good at electronics, and that if I had any sort of tools, I would have been able to break out and escape. So, I sat in the cold cell for what felt like days, bored and hungry as I wished that I had told Cap and Bucky where I was going. They would have made me wait for them and the Commandos, though, and time was running out to stop HYDRA._

_Finally, after all that waiting, the door to the room I was in creaked open. Red Skull strolled in in his fluttering cape, HYDRA soldiers pouring in from behind him. He stared at me through the bars of the cage before jerking his head as a gesture for some of the soldiers to open the cage and drag me out. Knowing I was outnumbered, I let myself be dragged out. Skull looked me over up and down before landing a solid punch to my gut, causing my knees to buckle and sharp wheeze to exit my lungs as the breath was knocked out of me. I tried not to show how much it hurt, so I kept my head up and spit blood in his face. Skull grimaced and wiped it off on the back of his glove, only to then slap me with it and smear it across my cheek._

_“So, ze Captain zends ‘iz lackey to do ‘iz job, eh?” Skull sneered, grabbing a fistful of my hair to yank my head up, making me look at him in his sunken eyes, “I vould ‘ave thought that he vould ‘ave at least zent Barnes to vatch you. Does Cap not know you are ‘ere, vittle von?”_

_“Screw off,” I spat back, licking my own blood off my lips, “Cap knows. He’ll come to get me and kill all of you.”_

_“You zeem zure of yourzelf, Stark,” he said, yanking my head back further, “I don’t zink ze Captain is going to rescue you this time.”_

_He was probably right, but I wasn’t afraid to die, so no fear or worry showed on my face. I stared back at Skull at best as I could since my head was still pulled back, and after a moment, he let my hair go. Unsteady and dizzy, I almost fell over, but the two guards holding me shifted me back up onto my feet, forcing me to stand._

_“You can ‘ave your vay viff ‘im,” Skull was saying, hands behind his back as he exited the room, “Leave zome bits of ‘iz body vor ven ze Captain comes to get ‘im.”_

Steve shook his head and rubbed his eyes, groaning softly. Trying to interpret twelve-year-old Tony’s phonetic German accent was starting to make his eyes and brain hurt, but that seemed to be the least of his problems. Sure, Tony tended to be a little self-destructive, but writing himself getting pummeled by Skull? He knew what that felt like firsthand, and the thought of Tony having to endure that, especially as a child, made him more than uncomfortable. Still, Tony trusted him with it, and he was determined to finish it. Blinking, Steve returned his attention to where he’d left off:

_I refused to cry, even when the goons laughed and beat me senseless. I could feel the blood pouring out of my nose, drenching the front of my shirt and dripping onto the floor. They threw me to the floor and kicked me until I was sure my ribs were broken, but my whole body hurt, so I couldn’t really tell where one pain ended, and another began. Really, I’d had worse, but they didn’t know that, so I played dead as best as I could, hoping that they’d toss me back into the cell until they got bored again. Their voices were hazy—I figured I probably had a concussion—but I recognized the explosions once they started, making the goons around me start screaming and shouting. I picked up my head to try and see what was going on, but all I saw was a flash of blue and more explosions before I passed out._

_I didn’t wake up for some time, and when I did, my head was pounding and I didn’t want to open my eyes. I could smell blood, but I figured it was my own. After a minute, I cracked my eyes open, groaning as the room came into focus. I wasn’t in the HYDRA base anymore: I’d been taken back to the mansion and stuck in my own bed with fresh, non-bloody pajamas on. The thought that either Bucky or Cap undressed and re-dressed me made me blush, so I closed my eyes and tried to sleep it off._

_“Hey, kiddo, open those peepers. You need to drink.”_

_I definitely didn’t whine as I re-opened my eyes, watching Bucky remove his domino mask before offering me a glass of water with a straw in it. Gratefully, I drank it all, sighing as I tried to shift a little under the blanket that was on me._

_“You guys found me,” I said, coughing a little, “How?”_

_“Cap noticed you were gone within a day, especially since you took his baby. He wasn’t happy about that,” Bucky said, putting the glass down, “But, that does mean he knows how to track that thing like a bloodhound. You’re lucky we got to you when we did. If we hadn’t gotten there, you would have bled out.”_

_“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” I said stubbornly, feeling guilty that I’d disappointed Cap, “I could have handled it. Besides, there was no time to tell you guys. I had—”_

_“I know,” Bucky interrupted, “I told him that. The intel was good. You still should have come and told us first, bud. You know Cap cares a lot about you and wants you to be safe.”_

Steve let out a soft giggle after reading that line, biting his tongue to keep from outright laughing. Even back then did Tony know that he was going to be more of an ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’ person? Plus, he couldn’t help but agree with fictional Bucky—he did care a lot about Tony and wanted him to be safe, especially in battle.

_“Yeah, lay it on, Barnes,” I grunted at him, shifting uncomfortably as my guilt settled like a stone in my chest, “He—is he still here?”_

_“Yeah. He wanted me to wake you up so he could do your dressings,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes, “I told him I could do it since I cleaned you up fine the first time, but I think he wants to eyeball you for himself. You really worried him, Tony. He’s probably going to ground you for this stunt.”_

_“What!” I exclaimed, struggling to sit up, “I—I was just doing my job! He can’t ground me, he’s not my dad—”_

_“No, he’s definitely not Howard,” Bucky sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder to squeeze lightly, “He wants you to heal up, kiddo. I’m gonna be benched with you so I can make sure you get around alright.”_

_“I can do it,” I snapped, starting to get angry, “I’ve done it before, I can do it now. You don’t have to baby me, James.”_

_Bucky blinked. I never used his first name unless I was really mad, and he knew that. He nodded and stood, muttering that he was going to get Cap before leaving my room and closing the door. I felt even worse after that. Bucky didn’t deserve my anger; it was my own fault that I’d gotten hurt, not his. I made a mental note to apologize later as I laid back down in my bed, snatching my Captain Ameribear from the other side of the bed to tuck into my arms. Dad hated that I still cuddled him, but he made me feel safe, and if Cap was going to yell at me, I was going to need his strength._

He knew that bear; Tony kept him on top of their dresser, even though he was slightly ratty and missing a button eye. He constantly told Steve that Captain Ameribear would protect them and watch them while they slept, and Steve had just joked back that voyeurs weren’t really his thing. Sitting back, Steve let the information sink in for a moment, a million thoughts swirling in his head: he knew about Howard, so he knew that at this point in time, Tony was well into the physical abuse stage. Was this how Tony had been coping all these years? By writing stories about him, Captain America, yelling at a child about how it was his fault for getting hurt when in reality, it was because Howard Stark was a piece of shit?

Steve closed his eyes and breathed in and out of his nose, quelling nausea that made his stomach curdle. He really, _really_ didn’t want to read his about his namesake scolding Tony, but Tony had trusted him with it, so he forced his eyes back open and kept reading:

_It didn’t take long before a triple knock on my door woke me up, forcing me to bite my lip to keep me from throwing up out of anxiety._

_“Come in,” I called, using every ounce of my strength to push myself up into a sitting position._

_Cap quietly opened the door and closed it behind him. I could see the tension in his shoulders, considering they were nearly up to his ears. He’d changed into civilian clothes, but he was still Cap; he just gave off that kind of energy. He turned around to face me, and where I expected to find anger there was nothing but concern. He crept over to the bed and sat beside me, carefully pulling me and Captain Ameribear into a hug. I choked out a squeak of surprise, but he held on tight, and I could feel him breathing into my hair._

_“Cap?” I asked after a minute when he still hadn’t let me go._

_“Sorry,” he said, his voice rough, “You—I was worried you weren’t going to make it. There was—there was a lot of blood. If we hadn’t shown up when we did—”_

_“Hey, I’m here, I’m okay,” I interrupted before he could continue, snaking my much smaller arms around his waist to try and comfort him, “It was stupid of me to try and go alone, I should—”_

_“No, no, Tony, it wasn’t stupid at all. You were trying to be a hero, and I’m very proud of you for that,” Cap said seriously as he pulled away, putting his hands on my shoulders so he could look me in the eyes, “Sure, tactically, it wasn’t the best decision, but you tried to do what you could based on what you had. Now, next time, you come and you get Bucky and me, alright? We’re a team and we work together as a team. No more solo stunts until you’re older and have better training.”_

_“Yes sir,” I said sadly, hugging Captain Ameribear to my chest, “When I’m older.”_

_“And have better training,” Cap said softly, smoothing one of his hands down my back, “That’s the big one, champ. You can always be brave, no matter how old you are, but you need the training to make sure you stay safe. Buck and I are going to help you and then you’ll be able to run your own missions someday.”_

_“You mean it?!” I nearly screamed, only lowering my volume when Cap winced (he does have supersoldier hearing, after all)._

_“Yeah, I mean it,” he chuckled, laughing harder when I tackled him into a hug, “You’ve got moxie, kid. I like your style.”_

_“Thanks, Cap,” I mumbled into his chest, not caring that Captain Ameribear was squished between us._

_“Anytime, kiddo. Now, let me see those bruises.”_

_I immediately pulled back to whine, trying to pull out my signature puppy dog eyes. Usually, he folded like a cheap suit like Jarvis did when I brought them out, but his gaze was steady, so I knew he was serious. With a sigh, I set Captain Ameribear on my pillow and slid off the bed, holding my arms up. Cap gingerly peeled off my pajama shirt, but even that jostled my bandages and made me swear under my breath._

_“Language, Tony,” he chided gently, setting my shirt aside, “Arms, please.”_

_I pouted and stuck out my arms toward him, letting him methodically check them up and down. I spun around when told so he could poke my back, shivering despite the warmth coming from his hands._

_“Alright, everything looks okay up top. Let me change the bandages out, then we’ll do your legs,” Cap decided, standing and waving for me to sit on the bed._

_I squirmed while I waited because I hated when Cap had to get the medical kit. I wasn’t ever supposed to get hurt, at least not to the point of needing stitches, and from the pull of my forehead by moving my eyebrows, I definitely had a few. Cap returned with the box and set it out on the bed, giving me a warm smile before I could look away._

_“Hey,” he said softly, putting his finger under my chin to turn my face back toward him, “It’s alright, son. It’s all over and forgiven. Don’t beat yourself up over it anymore, alright? Captain’s orders.”_

_“Captain’s orders,” I repeated automatically, only to pout when Cap grinned at me, “That was tricky, Cap.”_

_“I just want you to feel better, Tony,” he said seriously, starting with the bandage wrapped around my chest, “Let’s just say that I know what it’s like to be the little guy. Your time will come, Tony, I promise. Buck and I will make sure of it.”_

_I turned my eyes up to the ceiling as he changed my bandages out. It’s not that blood made me queasy or anything, but it was weird to watch Cap’s hands get tinted with it. So, I distracted myself by counting holes in the ceiling tiles, waiting for the rip of the bandage tape and his two pats on the wrapping to let me know I could look down again._

_“Your stitches look good, so I’m not going to touch them,” he said, handing me my pajama shirt to put back on, “Can you hike up your pants to your knees for me? I just want to look at the bruises and make sure they look okay.”_

_I sighed and rolled my pant legs up, wincing at the dark purpling all over my kneecaps and lower legs. Cap made a wounded noise before grabbing a syringe from the kit, which made me hang my head._

_“It doesn’t look that bad, I just want you to heal up quick,” I heard him say, so I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the familiar prick of the needle in my own skin, “Here it goes, okay? Deep breath.”_

_I breathed in as the needle poked in, then breathed out as the familiar tingle of warmth filled my knee. The pain subsided immediately, and once the other knee was done, I felt better than I had been before I got the stupid injuries. Looking up, Cap was checking his own skin for where he’d taken out his own blood to give to me, making sure the prick mark closed up._

_“Thanks,” I said quietly, rolling my pants back down and moving to crawl into bed with Captain Ameribear._

_“Tony?”_

_Settled in bed, I looked up, seeing Cap put down the closed medkit on my dresser. He sat on the edge of my bed and ran a hand through my hair, gently scratching like he knew I liked. I made a curious noise, noting his slight hesitation._

_“Are you going to be alright?” He asked quietly, pressing his thumb to the spot behind my ear where there was no hair, “Do you want me to stay in case you have nightmares?”_

_I paused, then lowered my eyes and nodded, scooting over. Cap easily crawled in with me; I was small enough that we could both fit on the bed. I curled up to him and he put an arm around me and Captain Ameribear, keeping us safe._

_“Sweet dreams, Tony,” Cap murmured._

_“Night, Cap,” I answered, easily letting my eyes close as I drifted off to sleep._

Putting the finished book down, Steve realized he’d started crying as a tear dropped onto his slacks, staining the spot. He put his head in his hands and sucked in a shuddery breath as he tried to comprehend what he’d read.

 _All these years—have I been watching over Tony?_ He thought to himself, scrubbing at his eyes as he willed the tears away, _Fuck, fuck you, Howard, for doing this to him—_

 _­_ Steve took another breath and shook his head; this wasn’t about Howard, this was about Tony, his wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant Tony, trying to wrestle with things he didn’t understand by going to one place he felt safe.

“At least it was with me,” he whispered to himself, damning his shaky hands as he put the book back in the shoebox.

Decision made, Steve scooped up the box and made a beeline for the elevator, jabbing the button for the workshop. He tried to think of what he wanted to say, but his mind was fuzzy with the implications of what Tony’s writing meant. He had about a billion questions and he knew he had about one shot until his husband shut down and waived it off completely. As a creator himself, Steve could recognize raw emotion when he saw it, and he knew he needed to do this right.

That is, if he could get in.

“Sir has prevented all access to the shop,” JARVIS’ voice said over the intercom when Steve jiggled the handle.

“Tell him he’s either going to be opening the door or replacing it,” Steve answered stubbornly.

It was only a few seconds before the lock clicked, and Steve smiled, letting himself in. Predictably, Tony was hunched over at his workstation, buried in what looked like wiring. Steve carefully set the box down on the shop futon and went over to him, making his footsteps loud so he would hear him approach. He wrapped his arms around his husband and pressed a kiss behind his ear, feeling how tense he was in his arms.

“Hey,” Steve murmured, kissing Tony’s cheek and jaw, “I missed you. Wish you’d stayed with me.”

“Didn’t want to see your face when you realized how fucked up I was,” Tony murmured back, not looking up from his work.

“I know, I’m such an uglier crier,” He sighed, smiling when Tony finally turned to give him a look, “What? I am.”

“You cried? Baby, you weren’t supposed to _cry_. You—I dunno, you were supposed to get angry and punch me, or something,” he said, his own eyes clearly shiny in the light, “Honey, you’re going to make _me_ cry—"

“Oh, I’m plenty angry. At Howard, at the world, at how fucked your childhood was—but not at you. Not over something like this,” Steve said carefully, turning Tony in his chair to face him, “Love, we all cope differently. And if yours was getting lost in a world where you felt like you mattered and were loved, then so be it. I’m glad—Even though I was asleep then, I’m glad that I could at least be there for you. Like that.”

He heard himself get choked up, so he looked at the ground, trying to glare it into submission so he wouldn’t start to cry again. Tony’s hands cupped his face and thumbs stroked his cheeks, so he looked back up and sniffled, pouting until Tony laughed and leaned in to kiss him.

“You’ve always been there for me. Whether or not you knew it,” he said quietly, dropping his hands to his lap, “I just—I wanted you to know that.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, running a hand through Tony’s hair to scrape his nails over his scalp. He grinned when Tony visibly loosened, only to have him sit up straight and glare.

“You read the rescue mission one, didn’t you,” he accused, pouting when Steve giggled, “You bitch, you are _not_ allowed to make fun of me for _any_ of them, understand? They are supposed to be a testament to the shit—”

“Baby, I loved it. I’m not making fun of you,” Steve laughed softly, taking Tony’s hands to squeeze, “I’m excited to read all of them.”

“All of them?” Tony said, hesitating for a second before smirking, “Really?”

“Yes,” Steve answered immediately, “All of them. You trusted me with them, so I’m going to read each and every word in them.”

Tony paused and nodded, taking his hands away before turning around in his chair.

“Well, best get to it. They won’t read themselves,” he said, picking his wiring back up.

Steve knew a dismissal when he saw one, and he was still worried about Tony, but he knew he needed time, so he pressed another kiss to Tony’s cheek and gently squeezed his bicep.

“I’ll be on the futon, okay?” he murmured, “Come cuddle with me when you get a break.”

Tony didn’t offer up any sign of recognition, so Steve took a breath and backed off, retreating to the futon to curl up and tug Tony’s old MIT blanket over him. The damn thing was heavy, but that meant it was warm, and in the cold shop, it was almost a necessity for him. Once he was settled and comfortable, Steve went through the box again to look for his next read. Considering it was only a shoebox, there weren’t a lot of books in it to begin with; he read another two stories from Tony’s early teens that had a similar comfort-type theme before he saw an age jump.

“Taking Matters into His Own Hands. 1987. He’d have been…seventeen. MIT,” Steve said to himself, wincing when he had to peel the pages apart, “I wonder if James knows about these…”

He set the box down on the ground and opened up to the first page, only to slam the book closed. His cheeks felt hot and he knew that if he looked in the mirror his face would be flushed a beet red. Sure, Tony was, in general, quite sexual, but he’d been only seventeen. Never in his life would Steve have expected a giant diagram of a penis on the first page, with anatomical detail that made him swallow nervously. 

_James definitely doesn’t know._

Steve re-opened the book and carefully looked over the diagram, noting Tony’s scrawl on the bottom corner:

_For future reference: Lube is cool and NECESSARY._

He burst into laughter, only to gasp and put his hand over his mouth when Tony whirled around and glared at him.

“Sorry! I just—this one has a diagram,” Steve said weakly, holding up the book for Tony to see, “It—your note was funny.”

“Title?” Tony called, squinting.

“Taking Matters into His Own Hands.”

It was quiet for a moment before Tony shot out of his chair like a rocket, but Steve was faster; he quickly shoved the book under his ass and sat up, folding his arms even though his husband pulled and pushed on him.

“Ste-ven!” he whined, stomping his foot, “Give it here! That one—that one’s _private_.”

“Oh? Is it now? What’s in it?” Steve asked smoothly, tugging Tony into his lap just to hear the man squeak in surprise, “Based on the diagram, I have an idea.”

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony said warningly, smacking one of his pecs to try and convey his displeasure, “Give it here.”

“Is it dirty?” he pressed on, slipping his hands into the back pockets of Tony’s jeans to squeeze his ass, “Why can’t I read porn my husband wrote when he wasn’t even legal yet?”

“Steve!” He yelped, smacking his arms, “Give it!”

“But I wanna read it.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Not for public consumption, and like you said, I wasn’t even _legal_ when I wrote that. I feel like there’s definitely an ethical issue—”

“But you’re my husband.”

“—Okay, yes, but still—”

“What if I promise to give it over _after_ I read it?”

Tony sighed loudly, but Steve already had his baby blues ready, poking out his bottom lip as he fluttered his eyelashes. He watched Tony cave, making a tiny smirk curl up his lips when he sighed again.

“Fine. But you’re still not allowed to say anything about it, understand?” he said seriously, pinching Steve’s nipple.

“Ow!—yeah, yeah, I get it,” Steve grumbled, taking his hands out of Tony’s pockets to put them protectively over his chest, “I’ll read it once and hand it over and not say anything about it. I promise.”

“Pinky?”

“ _Yes_ , Tony. Baby, I promise you it’s not bad and I’m going to still love you after I read it. You have nothing to be afraid of,” Steve said seriously, making sure Tony met his eyes, “I love you, Mr. Stark-Rogers. There is nothing in that box that will ever make me reconsider that. I promise.”

“…Did you really have to bring the Mr. Stark-Rogers card into it? That’s cheating.”

“Actually, it’s the opposite of cheating. It’s being faithful to a promise.”

Tony’s weak sigh told Steve he was being a little too serious, so he leaned up to kiss him, sliding his hands up underneath his grimy workshop tank to press against the small of his back.

“I love you,” Steve murmured, bumping their noses together affectionately, “A lot.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, you big sap,” Tony snorted, scooting off of Steve’s lap, “You have fun with your wank material, babe, I’m going to keep working.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” Steve called after him with a snicker.

He ducked down under the blanket again and pulled the book back out, opening it back up to the diagram. He let his eyes linger for a moment, and once he decided that yes, it _was_ Tony’s penis, but mirrored, he moved onto the story:

_Once I’d formulated my plan, I knew I couldn’t back out, no matter how nervous I was. I’d thought about it for a long time, and after I’d gotten some experience at university, I set my plan into motion. I knew Cap would be back from his mission in Bulgaria within the hour—most likely sooner, considering I’d sent him my emergency code. We’d decided that since I’d become HYDRA’s newest fascination, we needed a phrase that I could say to let him know that I was in trouble. So, when I messaged Cap that I’d failed my biology test, I knew I had about twelve hours before he was going to body slam my bedroom door open._

_Everything was set up—I even managed to smuggle lube and condoms into my nightstand drawer just in case things went further than I figured Cap would even allow. I’d known the man long enough to know he had reservations about intimacy, but I’d been practicing charming and coaxing people into my bed just for that reason. Sure, I hadn’t gone all the way with another person before, but I’d practiced enough on my own that I’d be able to take it and make it good…if I could even get that far._

_I heard a car screech outside the window, so I ran over to peek out as my heart hammered in my ears. A flash of red and blue confirmed that Cap was home, so I sat on my bed to wait. Sure enough, there was thumping up the steps and my bedroom door flew open, cracking and sticking in the wall to reveal a clearly worried Cap, his shoulders and chest heaving with either concern or exhaustion._

_“Hi,” I said weakly as I watched him look me over, confusion in his eyes when he realized I wasn’t in immediate danger, “I—I need your help. With something.”_

_“Something that made you use the emergency code while you knew I was on a mission?” he said, clearly trying to keep the judgment out of his voice as he sheepishly pulled my door from the wall to shut it._

_“It’s important!” I protested, folding my arms over my chest._

_Cap raised an eyebrow and unlatched his shield to rest against the wall before sitting on my bed, eyes still hard and focused as he took in the room._

_“No one else is here, Cap. It’s not…there’s no one holding me hostage, okay? This is me asking you for help, and Dad and Mom are finally away, and I gave J the week off so I could—y’know, talk to you,” I said, purposefully fumbling over my words, “It’s important. And you know Dad pries.”_

_It was hard to lie to Cap since, well, he was Cap, but it came out easier than I’d expected, especially once relief flooded his face._

_“Well, the good news is, we were just doing cleanup when you messaged, so I won’t get raked over the coals too badly,” he said, taking his cowl off to ruffle his hair, “So, what’s wrong, son? Is—do I need to talk to Howard again?”_

_“No! No,” I said quickly, seeing his jaw clench, “Not—not that. I, uh. I need. Relationship help.”_

_“Relationship help?” Cap repeated flatly, “And you’re asking me instead of Buck? Why?”_

_“Buck likes dames,” I said carefully, “Only dames, that is.”_

_It was quiet. I hadn’t exactly told Cap I bat for both teams. Well, all teams, technically, but I wasn’t about to explain pansexuality to an octogenarian. I knew from stories that he’d fooled around with the Commandos, so I’d hoped he wouldn’t judge me too badly._

_“Oh, Tony.”_

_I winced, but Cap drew me into a crushing hug, making me choke and gasp for breath. He knuckled my scalp fondly as I pushed against his chest, growling playfully._

_“You know I love you, champ, no matter who you go for,” he said, pulling away with a huge smile on his face, “I’m proud of you, Anthony.”_

Struggling to not cry, Steve couldn’t help but smile at the page, tracing a fingertip over the line. Looking up over at Tony, he cleared his throat, getting his attention.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, and when Tony glared, he shook his head, “No, I’m serious, Tones.”

“Fine. What?”

“Was I the first person you came out to? Formally?”

He watched Tony, and after a moment his husband’s shoulders slumped, and he rubbed a hand over his face with a sigh.

“Yeah. I guess. If that counts,” he mumbled, “After I—after that was finished, I pretty much went and told Rhodey right away. Not that he didn’t know, considering I went out with both men and women when we roomed together, but yes. You—Cap—is the first person I formally said that I was interested in all sexes to.”

“Awe, Tony, baby,” Steve sighed happily, reaching up to press the heel of his hand to his eye to try and keep the tears back, “I’m—I’m _honored_ , Tones. I’m so glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me, er, to tell Cap that you’re pan. God, I love you, honey, you’ve come so far and I’m so proud of you.”

He sniffled and smiled wide, uncaring that Tony’s jaw dropped as he stared.

“I, uh, thanks?” he squeaked, “Honey, I don’t know how I feel about you crying over the porno I wrote, so—”

“Haven’t gotten to that part yet. Just wanted to make sure I told you that I love you and am proud of you for being true to yourself.”

It was quiet until Tony sighed loudly and dragged a hand over his scrunched up face.

“Alright, you’re going to make me cry, I’m turning around now,” he said, making Steve laugh and return to the story:

_“Okay, okay, that’s not what I dragged you here to talk about,” I grumbled as I fixed my hair, “It’s—it’s more complicated.”_

_“What? You want an old man’s advice about wooing? Or is it more serious than that?” Cap asked, a knowing smirk on his lips, “Do you need help planning a date?”_

_“I wish. No, it’s—well, it is serious. I like him a lot,” I said honestly, rolling my eyes at his excited grin, “But we—uh, we have plans. Y’know. Stuff.”_

_“Stuff.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Cap stared at me long enough that I watched the cogs turn and click into place in his head so his eyebrows shot up to his brow line._

_“Anthony!” he scolded, “You’re seventeen—”_

_“—I’ll be eighteen in a few months!—”_

_“—You don’t know what they could have! Have they had a screening?”_

_“Of course, I’m not a dumbass. They’re clean,” I snapped, “Look, I just—”_

_I bit my lip and let myself wilt a little, trying to seem somewhat pitiful._

_“—I really like him. A lot. And we’re not…I don’t think we’re going to go all the way. At least, not for a bit. I just want to show him my gratitude and love, and you know how I feel about buying people things. But, if you don’t want to help, that’s fine. I’ll just…I don’t know. Fake it, I guess.”_

_I looked down at my shoes and tried to look as sad as possible, picking at a frayed string on my jeans. After a moment, Cap sighed, and I had to forcibly bite back my yelp of victory._

_“Fine. I know you won’t ask Howard, and Buck won’t be any help, so I guess that leaves me,” he said, “What is it that you are planning to do?”_

_“I wanna blow him.”_

_“JESUS, Tony.”_

_“What!” I exclaimed as I looked up, trying not to laugh at Cap dragging a hand over his flushed face, “What do you want me to say?”_

_“I have no idea, but I don’t think I’m qualified for this,” Cap said weakly, “I don’t know what to tell you, Tony. It’s not like I can just—”_

_“I want to practice,” I continued, rolling right over him, “Just once. Just to get used to it. He’s about your size anyway, so I figured I could—”_

_“No, Tony, oh god,” Cap groaned, “I’m not going to let you, you know, you’re a kid! Not only is it illegal, but if Howard even found out, he’d kill me, and you’d get hurt.”_

_“Dad won’t know, that’s why I waited, and I don’t have anyone else to ask for help from, Cap, please, you know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate,” I begged, letting my lower lip jut out just a bit as I pulled out my best card, “I mean, I can go to Buck, if you’re really uncomfortable.”_

_I made myself look as pained as possible, only to melt in relief when Cap sighed softly and reached over to squeeze my knee. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me in, kissing my temple softly._

_“Look. You used the emergency code, so you must be serious. So, I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll teach you some things, you get ONE go, and that’s it. Understand?” he said seriously, “I’ll answer questions, but nothing more. Got it?”_

_“Yes sir, Captain America sir, crystal clear,” I chirped, hoping he couldn’t hear my heart hammering in my ears, “One shot.”_

_“Okay. Now, is this your first time with this kind of stuff?” Cap continued quietly, taking my hands in his own._

_“Yeah,” I lied easily, wondering if he could feel how clammy my hands were, “First.”_

_“Okay. Now, when you, ah, do it, go slow. You won’t want to, but you should. It’s important to build up to it. Don’t be afraid to drag out the foreplay…kissing, touching, all that. Getting straight to the action might send the wrong idea,” he said, squeezing my hands reassuringly._

_“R-right,” I stammered, leaning in until I could brush my nose against his, “Is—Is this okay?”_

_“Lean into it,” Cap encouraged softly, “Go on. You know this part, right?”_

_I nodded and pressed our lips together, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He tasted like nicotine gum, which I knew he only chewed when he was so stressed that he considered smoking again. Testing the boundaries, I shifted and slid into his lap, smiling when his arms automatically came up to support me. I pulled back and smiled nervously, putting a hand through my hair._

_“Good?” I asked softly._

_“Yeah,” Cap breathed, “Just keep going slow, and when things start to get heavy, then go onto the next step.”_

_I really didn’t want to wait, but I had an image to keep up, so I nodded and leaned in again, kissing him as if I was a little bit surer of myself. I fell into it, starting with gentle pecks and small nips until he opened his mouth for me, letting me slip my tongue inside. I hadn’t mastered Frenching, but Cap had served over there, so he was clearly more experienced in plunging in his tongue down my throat._

“Y’know, I actually learned Frenching when I was in Nazi Germany,” Steve said aloud, flicking his eyes up in time to see Tony’s shoulders go up to his ears, “Some of those gals were feisty ones, all grabby and shit.”

“I regret this so much,” Tony said mournfully as Steve giggled and continued:

_“Cap,” I panted quietly when I pulled away again, nosing at his cheek, “Please, I wanna—”_

_“Shh, Tony, easy there,” he murmured, widening his legs so I could slip down to the floor, “Now, you have to be gentle, alright? Go on, I know you know how to take the suit pants off.”_

_I nodded and fumbled with the slightly hidden snaps and zipper, waiting for him to lift his hips so I could tug the pants down slightly. As per my brilliant plan, I also knew that Cap went commando under the suit, giving me perfect access to his cock. Watching it curl up out of his pants and smack against the plating of his top made my mouth water; he was longer than I’d thought he’d be, but I wasn’t about to complain. I’d done my share of deep throating and wasn’t at all swayed by the challenge. Still, I let nervousness show on my face, fisting my hands into his pants._

_“It’s alright, I know. You picked the wrong person to practice on,” Cap said apologetically, reaching down to cup my cheek, “It’s daunting, but this is just for you to get…familiar with the equipment. Okay? It’s just like yours, only mirrored. So, touch like you would for yourself. Gentle.”_

_“Okay,” I whispered, reaching up to carefully curl my hand around his cock._

_I’d expected him to be softer, but he was almost completely hard with arousal, which was definitely a confidence booster. Determined to make him feel good, I started to stroke him with a tighter grip, pulling down his foreskin with my thumb just to watch the precome spurt out of his tip._

_“Y-yeah, champ, just like that,” Cap moaned, threading a hand into my hair and leaning back on one elbow, “Don’t gotta do much more than that, just keep that up, okay? Take it slow. W-we can skip the blowie, this—this is fine, this is good—”_

_Ignoring him, I went up on my knees to lick at his cockhead, still stroking him as I explored with my tongue. Other guys’ tastes usually made me gag, but Cap’s taste was sweet and salty, making me groan as I easily took him all the way into my mouth. Cap’s moans and pants from above me encouraged me further, so I relaxed my throat and kept going._

_“Oh, good lord, Tony, that mouth,” he groaned, his head falling back as he tugged on my hair, “Y-you’re so good, sweetheart, just like that—”_

_I sunk into the praise and started to bob my head, taking him deeper into my throat with each movement. Knowing I could take him all the way down, I took a quick breath and moved, burying my nose in his pubes. Cap writhed and tried to pull me off, but I was determined, so I swallowed around him until I could feel his thighs twitch around me. Quickly, I slipped my other hand into his pants to fondle his balls, unable to hold back my swell of pride when Cap cried out and came down my throat. Apparently, the serum made him ejaculate more than a normal man, but I swallowed it all down as I pulled off to lick my lips._

_“Good?” I asked hoarsely, sitting back on my knees despite knowing Cap could probably see my own erection._

_Cap panted as he stared at me, tucking himself back into his pants. There was a moment where he didn’t say anything as he sat up, not breaking eye contact with me._

_“Tony?” He asked, his voice unusually calm for someone who just orgasmed._

_“Yeah?” I answered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, “Was it good? Do you want more? I can—”_

_Cap held up his hand and I immediately shut my mouth, fear trickling down my spine at his look. God, he knew, I knew he knew, he was smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for, and now he was going to skin me alive._

_“I want you to answer me honestly,” he said in that same tight voice, “Have you had sex before today?”_

_“No,” I tried, only to wince at his stare, “Okay, oral. And I’ve…dabbled. By myself.”_

_“So did you or did you not trick me into leaving a mission by using our emergency code for EMERGENCIES ONLY so you could convince me to let you quote-on-quote practice fellatio on me?” he continued._

_“I—uh—I did,” I said weakly, “Kind of. I didn’t—well, I don’t think of it as tricking you, I really did want the practice—”_

_“Get in the corner, now,” Cap snapped, pointing to the far corner of the room, “Don’t come out until I tell you.”_

_I gave a hurried “yes, sir,” before scrambling to my feet and booking it to the corner and facing the wall. Arguing about not being a child probably wasn’t the best fight to pick at the moment, so I stayed quiet as I shifted nervously in my spot._

“Wait, I waited until _after_ the blowjob to tell you I’d figured out you’d lied?” Steve asked, looking over at Tony, “Wouldn’t I have known during it?”

“You were being polite and got a blowie out of it. Plus, I was seventeen,” Tony grunted, not even bothering to turn around, “I think I’d sucked maybe one dick in my life when I wrote that, so I can’t be blamed for inaccuracies.”

“You wrote me like a real douche, so I’d hope you’d say it was inaccurate,” Steve mumbled.

Tony whirled around and stared at him from under his brow, blinking exaggeratedly.

“Are you really upset that you were mischaracterized in a fictional porno I wrote when I was a teenager?” he asked.

Steve pouted and flushed, ducking down under his blanket to avoid Tony’s eyes as he kept reading:

_It felt like hours that I stood in the corner, waiting to be called out. Usually, when Cap was tasked with punishing me, I only got a stern talking-to or made to do chores, not shamed like a child. Thus, I was nervous about what was coming my way._

_“Alright, Tony, you can come out now.”_

_I turned around and kept my back to the wall, sheepish and embarrassed from being caught. Cap beckoned to me with his finger, so I inched over to him, but when I made to sit, he stopped me with a hand on my stomach._

_“What you did was wrong, Anthony. On more levels than I feel like I need to explain,” he said quietly, keeping his voice light despite how heavy his words were, “First, I thought you were in serious danger because you abused our code. Second, you lied to me about your sexual history to third, trick me into letting you perform oral sex on me. This is serious stuff, Anthony. Have you done this to other people?”_

_“No! God, no, never I wouldn’t—”_

_My mouth felt dry at the implications and I started to tremble, real tears welling up in my eyes._

_“—I just wanted to make you feel good and please you,” I croaked out, reaching up to rub at my eyes with the back of my hand, “I just—y’know, you’re so stressed and everything, and I really care about you and I wanted to do somethin’ for you, so you could feel good, and—”_

_“Shh, Tony. Hey. Breathe,” Cap said quietly, taking my hands again to rub his thumbs over my knuckles reassuringly, “It’s alright. I mean, it’s not alright, but I know you, and I don’t think you’ll do this again, right?”_

_“No, no sir, never again,” I said with a sniffle, “I promise, I’ll keep it all to myself next time.”_

_“Good. And we’re going to make sure of that,” he continued, sitting up a little straighter, “Pull down your pants and underwear and lay over my lap, please.”_

_I froze, making sure I heard him right._

_“What?” I squeaked, resisting when he tugged on my hands._

_“Over my lap, Anthony, now,” Cap said, using his best Captain voice._

_“I—I’m not a kid!” I shrieked, trying to pull away, “You can’t—”_

_“Then you shouldn’t have lied like one,” he scolded, “Now let’s go.”_

_I stomped my foot and tried to protest, but Cap was much stronger with the serum, and I knew he wasn’t going to back down. I thought I was going to collapse from how hard I was trembling as Cap let me go so I could unbutton my jeans and push them down with my boxers to my upper thighs. Before I could say anything, he grabbed me and settled me over his lap, picking up my legs to put on the bed. I tensed, but then Captain Ameribear was then put in my arms._

_“Just in case you need him,” Cap said softly, “While we do this, I want you to think about what you did wrong, and then once it’s all done, it’s in the past, forgiven and forgotten. Okay?”_

_“Okay,” I whispered, burying my face in my bear._

_I tensed as I waited for the first smack to fall, but after a second or two, relaxed and figured it wouldn’t feel too bad—my mistake. He waited until I relaxed to bring his hand down on my right cheek three times, making me cry out and jolt. I thought he’d start out easy, but he kept bringing his hand down in seemingly random places, never lasting in one place too long but never letting any spots ease up._

_“P-please, I’m sorry, I’ll be good next time,” I begged, digging my nails into the comforter to keep from reaching back to cover myself, “I’m s-sorry Cap, I promise—”_

_Cap just brought his hand down harder, moving his knee up to get better access to the sit spots on the backs of my thighs. I cried out at the stinging pain and tried to wriggle away, but his other arm tightened around my waist and kept me in place despite my squirming._

_“Ow! Hey! Y-you’re hurting me, that hurts!” I tried, dissolving into sobs, “C-Cap, p-please—”_

_He slowed for a second, just smoothing his hand over my stinging skin as I cried, my chest heaving with my bawling. Sure, I was used to pain, this really wasn’t too bad, but having Cap be so disappointed in me made me crumble inside. I was so distracted crying into Captain Ameribear that I barely registered Cap putting my legs down and moving me off of his lap to help me stand._

_“Shh, baby boy, it’s all over,” He said soothingly, putting his hands on my hips to ground me, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”_

_I shook my head and refused to untuck myself from my bear until Cap reached up and peeled him away from me, shushing me again to wipe away my tears. He cupped my face and had me look up, and once I met his eyes, I shamefully realized I was still hard. I glanced back down and grabbed at my shirt to pull over myself, only to whine when I saw that I’d leaked all over my shirt and his pants._

_“S-sorry, I’ll—It’s fine, don’t look at me,” I managed, ashamed of myself._

_“Hey. It’s okay. I’ll always take care of you, Tony. Come here,” Cap said softly, taking my hips in his hands to pull me a little closer, “You just relax, okay?”_

_I made a soft noise, only to groan quietly as he took my flushed cock in his hand. I swore I could feel each of his calluses, making me shiver from how good just his hand felt. Leaning my forehead against his, I barely managed a sharp breath before I was coming, spilling semen all over his hand until it dripped down his wrist. With quiet hushing, he pulled my underwear and pants all the way off and laid me down on my belly on the bed, so as not to aggravate my sore ass._

_“It’s all over, Tony. Forgiven and forgotten, okay?” Cap murmured, running his clean hand through my hair as I started to feel drowsy from the rush of emotions, “I’ll leave you to rest and fetch you for dinner. Sleep well, my love.”_

_The last thing I felt was his lips pressed to my forehead before I fell asleep, feeling more satisfied and exhausted than I ever had before._

Steve choked and flipped through the rest of the pages, desperately looking for more. Not finding anything, he whined and put the book away, poking his head up from the blanket. Unsurprisingly, he found Tony watching him with an amused smirk, which made him flush in embarrassment.

“Aww, baby, and here I thought it wasn’t that good,” Tony teased, grinning when Steve tugged the blanket up to try and cover his cheeks.

“It wasn’t that good, but you know I love your ass under my hands, so it wasn’t fair,” Steve mumbled, shifting uncomfortably, “God, Tony, that was your fantasy at _seventeen_?”

“I used to jerk off onto your old posters, babe,” he snorted, standing to move over to the couch to crawl under the blanket with Steve, ignoring Steve’s pressing problem, “Of course that was my fantasy. You have always, unequivocally, been my favorite wet dream. That being said, would you like some help?”

Steve grunted when Tony ground down on him, grabbing his waist to still him.

“I’m _not_ getting off to that, you weren’t legal, Tony,” he tried, only to whine at his husband’s smug look, “It’s true! It’s—It’s not—”

“Love, our entire relationship is a paradox of cradle robbing. I don’t think me jerking you off because you liked some badly written porn about us is going to make the universe end,” Tony said with a laugh, leaning up to give Steve a slow kiss.

Relaxing into it, Steve finally sighed and nodded, wiggling a bit to get comfortable on the futon. He licked his lips as he watched Tony unzip him and pull his heavy cock out, not even bothering to pull his slacks down. Immediately, he reached down to grab Tony’s hand and shake his head.

“If I’m getting off, so are you,” he panted, fumbling with his pants before reaching over to undo Tony’s jeans, “That way we’re both degenerates.”

Tony laughed and batted Steve’s hands away so he could shove down his pants, his own erection springing free. A hint of sheepishness showed in his grin, which Steve took as a victory point.

“I can’t help it. You were practically moaning over here. Made it very difficult for me to concentrate,” he grunted, taking both of their cocks in hand with a hiss.

Steve giggled and fell into whiny moans, easily rolling his hips up into Tony’s fist. It didn’t even take much encouraging on Tony’s part before he shuddered and came, coating his belly and shirt in stripes of come. He arched up as Tony kept going, stroking him into oversensitivity, making him writhe on the futon until Tony came as well, spilling over their cocks and joining Steve’s drying mess on his stomach.

“Fuck,” Tony panted, to which Steve made an agreeing noise, “If I’d have known you’d have been into this, I’d have given you that notebook _way_ sooner.”

He laughed breathily, reaching up to loosely loop his arms over Tony’s neck to tug him down for a few soft kisses, teasing at his bottom lip until he felt he’d recovered enough to move them. Ignoring that his jeans were just barely hanging onto his hips, he scooted up and gathered Tony into his arms, bending at the knees with a sharp _crack_ to pick up the box of notebooks as well.

“Careful, your age is showing,” Tony murmured into his neck, making him laugh as he trooped over to the elevator to take them up to their floor.

Thankfully, his experience with a spent and handsy Tony was probably more extensive than his experience as a soldier, so Steve easily manhandled Tony into a quick shower—together, of course—and some pajamas before tucking them both into bed. He let Tony snuggle up into him with a tablet in his hands, presumably flicking through stocks or the news as he settled down.

“You okay?” Steve murmured, running his fingers through his husband’s wet hair, “Need anything?”

Tony nodded, then shook his head, only to pause and turn his head up and purse his lips. Laughing, Steve leaned down to kiss him once, so he would settle back down. Satisfied that Tony was settled, he reached over the side of the bed to pull out the last notebook; it was definitely the newest of all of them, seeing that the binding was still fairly pristine. However, some of the pages were warped on the inside and definitely smelled of old alcohol. Steve checked the name and date on the front.

_American Roulette. January 1992._

The name didn’t make much sense to him, but the date made his core run cold. December of 1991 was a familiar date to him, one that Tony rarely talked about, and one that he never pushed on. The event happened late in the month, so this must have come right after. Steve glanced down at Tony, but the man didn’t grab the book or try to stop him, but he did seem a little tense, so he carefully opened it, flipping to the first page with words. There it was, Tony’s familiar scrawl, but it was all wrong; his loops were shaky and his lines disjointed.

 _He’d been drunk_ , Steve thought to himself, laying his head on top of Tony’s to try and help the other relax as he began:

_I’m not sure why I’m here anymore. Dad’s gone. Mom’s gone. J too. They’re all fucking gone in a fucking car accident. And I got fucking stuck with the company. And with it, Dad’s liquor cabinet. Being able to legally drink has its perks, but having an eidetic memory means that no matter how drunk I get, I still remember._

_It’s been a week since the funeral. Obie’s been by a few times, but for the most part, he’s been dealing with company shit so I can grieve myself into a liquor coma. Fuck, I’m glad Howard is dead and all, but Mom? J? What did they ever do to deserve this? I can barely acknowledge that I’m not going to have either of them anymore. It doesn’t seem real. Everything is empty and meaningless without them._

_Putting my thoughts aside I as best as I could, I refocused on the objects that I had placed in front of me. I found myself in my father’s study, slumped at his desk with his Smith & Wesson revolver on the desk, six bullets perched neatly beside it, overshadowed by a tall, nearly-empty bottle of bourbon. I stared at it for a few minutes, waiting for the trickle of thoughts to begin before leaning up to grab it. I easily threw back the last few dregs of the alcohol and dropped the bottle, uncaring that it wasn’t in the trash can._

_“’Fuck,” I sighed, running my hand through my hair as I slumped forward onto the desk._

_I picked up the gun with a steady hand, fumbling for one bullet to load into the cylinder. It snapped shut and I spun it, unhesitatingly sticking the barrel against my temple and clicking the trigger._

_Nothing._

_Sighing, I pulled the gun away and threw it back down on the desk, standing to stumble over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey this time: it was one of the more expensive ones, usually reserved for special occasions. I figured this called for it. I uncapped it and sat down in Dad’s chair again, lifting the bottleneck to my lips to wash down my thoughts with warm amber, drinking like I was dehydrated. Once my hands started to shake, I set the bottle down, only to miss the desk and have it fall off, shattering on the floor. I turned to watch the liquid start to spread over the wood, distantly thinking that Dad would have skinned my ass for spilling even a single drop._

_I turned back to the gun and picked it up, unlatching the cylinder again and filling it with five more bullets. Unless some miracle happened, statistics stated that I had a 100% of maybe being able to see my Mom and Jarvis again. Not wanting to have to stare at myself in the reflection on the desk, I closed my eyes and held the gun up to my head again, finger poised on the trigger._

_“I’ll see you soon, Mom,” I mumbled weakly to myself, my words coming out slurred and slow, “I’ll see you soon, J.”_

_I squeezed the trigger and the gunshot rang out in the room, making my ears ring and gun smoke to fill my lungs. Confused as to why my brains weren’t splattered on the walls, I looked over to see Cap standing there in his bloody, dirty uniform, his hand curled around the end of the barrel of the revolver. I gaped as he peeled the gun from my hand, only to drop the flattened bullet onto the desk._

_“Tony,” he said quietly, unloading the gun and throwing away the bullets before setting the gun itself down._

_I didn’t want to face him. Not like this. I tried to swivel the chair around, but he grabbed it and pushed me around, kneeling in front of me. He looked at me with those soft, kind blue eyes, concern and worry knit into his brow with a cross stitch._

_“Cap,” I finally managed, unable to get the word out before choking on it._

_He hushed me and stood, hefting me up from under my armpits to hold me in his arms, one across my back and one secured under my ass to keep me in place. I grabbed at the back of the suit and buried my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of the street and his soap mixed together, wondering why he’d ever stopped carrying me this way if he was as strong as he said he was. He took me to my bedroom; not the new one, my childhood room, where all my old toys and bed were, where he’d held me through my nightmares and patched me up from the beatings. Without asking, Cap gently set me on my feet and set to undressing me even though I kept pitching forward from being plastered. He left me in my underwear and guided me to the bathroom, holding me up so I could clumsily brush my teeth._

_“That’s it. Good boy, so proud of you,” Cap murmured once I was done, “You hold onto the sink, okay? I need to let go for a moment.”_

_I did as I was told, pointedly not looking in the mirror as I swayed on my feet. After a moment of shuffling behind me, Cap came back around me and picked me up into his arms. I realized he’d stripped to his underwear too, but I was too sick to my stomach to appreciate it. Instead, I whined as he tucked me into bed, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that spilled down my cheeks and stained the pillow._

_“Shh, Tony, I’m right here,” He said softly, climbing into the twin bed with me, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’m right here, by your side, always. I promise. I’ll always be here when you need me. I love you, Tony Stark.”_

_He drew me into his arms and settled the comforter around us, wrapping me up in his familiar warmth, like I was that small kid who’d dreamt of his father chasing him with a broken liquor bottle again. I was safe, god, I felt protected, and nothing could stop my body from heaving with sobs into Cap’s chest, feeling utterly broken and alone. But I wasn’t alone—I had Cap, I’d always have Cap._

“Steve?”

He only realized he was crying when Tony started to wipe the tears off his face. There was more to read, but his hands were shaking enough to make the paper rattle, and Tony took it from him anyway. Horrified, Steve looked over at his husband, twitching with unspoken apologies and worries and concern and oh, god—

“Shh, honey, shit, I broke you,” Tony murmured, cupping Steve’s face to keep wiping away his tears, “Honey, that was over 25 years ago, it’s over, I haven’t felt like that in a _long_ time, please don’t cry—”

“But you _did_ ,” Steve rasped, trembling as he reached up to grab Tony’s hands and hold them, “You did, Tony, oh god, you wanted to kill yourself, you wanted to _die_ , and you had no one, no one was there for you, you had to write a _story_ about someone caring, I—”

“It’s not just a story, love. I knew I was waiting for my best fella, even then,” Tony interrupted softly, lacing their hands together, “Sure, I was…low. But this—”

He nodded to the discarded notebook.

“—This helped. I always had you with me, Cap. No matter what. Even—even when I was done with the cruelness of the world, you were right there, in my heart,” he continued lowly, pulling Steve in to wrap his arms around him, “Yeah? You’ve always been by my side, my love. Through everything. I just wanted you to catch up on the few stories you don’t remember.”

Steve laughed wetly and sniffled into Tony’s neck, comforted by his husband’s sure and steady arms. He gave himself a few moments to relish in the warmth before pulling away, wiping the rest of the snot and tears off of his face. He smiled at Tony, ignoring his look of disgust when he grabbed his hands again.

“I love you, Tony Stark,” he said honestly with a snuffle, “And—and even if I wasn’t there then, I’m so glad that you had Cap to help you, protect you and keep you safe. God, I’ve never been so thankful for Howard’s obsession seeping into you, though it’s probably the only thing I’ll ever thank the man for—well, and for starting the program to wake me up so I could meet you and fall in love with you, but off paper this time.”

“Fuck, Steve,” Tony croaked, a tear of his own falling down his cheek.

“Shh, baby. I love you so much, I’m so proud of you for being able to share this with me,” Steve barreled on, “You are the most wonderful man in the world, I can’t believe I get to wake up next to you and call you my husband—”

“Steve, stop it, I’m an ugly crier and you know it—”

He laughed and laid down on the bed, pulling Tony on top of him to wrap his arms around him. JARVIS immediately dimmed the lights, leaving them to bask in the soft glow of the reactor as they sniffled and snuggled.

“I love you too,” Tony whispered, tucking his face into Steve’s neck, “So much.”

Steve merely smiled and kissed the top of his head, holding him close under the warm covers.

“Sleep, my love,” he murmured, “I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or: Steve is a good husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an added bonus. Enjoy!

If the folder hadn’t been bright blue, Tony would have missed it. It was sort of shoved under some machinery on his desk, but it was nearly falling off anyway, so he barely got to it in time before it slipped off. Looking at it, he realized there was a sticky note on it in his husband’s handwriting:

_Tony: with you, always. Steve._

Startled, Tony turned it over just to make sure nothing was on the back. It wasn’t their anniversary and no holidays were coming up…what was he up to? Concerned, he opened the folder: on the left were a few slips of drawing paper, and on the right, a composition notebook was tucked in the pocket with a sticky note of its own on it.

_Drawings first, Tony._

Tony snorted and sat down at his desk, pulling out the first drawing. A smile stretched across his lips, recognizing Steve in uniform, a child with a teddy bear hugging his knee as he protected both of them with his shield raised high. Something looked familiar about the scene, and as looked over it, he physically leaned back in his chair in surprise when he realized what it was.

 _That’s my face,_ he thought, squinting at the child, then he recognized Captain Ameribear, and was thrown, _That’s—That’s definitely me, why would he—_

Embarrassment spotted his cheeks when he thought back to their anniversary, to his gift, to what Steve had read—

_Oh no._

Tony put down the first drawing to pull out the second, a soft whimper escaping from where he nibbled on his bottom lip. That was definitely MIT Tony, just a sprinkling of facial hair but still expressive, bent over Cap’s lap, his cock trapped between his belly and Cap’s leg, leaking even in the graphite. Cap wasn’t angry, but determined, fondness in his penciled eyes with his hand raised to bring down again. Steve had even added one color, just to tint young Tony’s bare ass a cherry red.

“Cheeky bastard,” Tony mumbled, having to adjust himself before setting that drawing face-down on the first one, then removing the third drawing.

There he was with a much thicker and darker goatee, curled up to Cap in bed, his face gaunt and pained with tear streaks running down his cheeks. Cap had one arm wrapped around him, holding him tight, and in between them, was tucked Captain Ameribear.

“He wasn’t there, inconsistent, Steve,” he mumbled, wishing he could hug the drawing without crumpling it.

He put it down and removed the last drawing, pleasantly surprised to see that it was fully colored, shaded and inked. It was him, but in the Iron Man suit, laughing up at Steve, his cowl off and his face sweaty but happy, looking down with love and adoration, his wedding ring standing out on his un-gloved hand that rested on Tony’s waist.

It was perfect.

Tony carefully restacked the drawings and put them away before turning to the composition book, unpeeling its sticky note to toss in the trash and miss. He pulled it out and stared at it for a moment, wondering what Steve could have possibly put in it; he’d already touched on the big stuff, now what? Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it, only to burst out laughing.

_Sometimes, large groups of people would gather in downtown Manhattan at local coffee shops or the park, just in the hopes of watching Iron Man streak through the sky as he went on another one of his missions. I wouldn’t say I had a crush on the man, considering I didn’t actually know Mr. Stark, but a boy could dream, couldn’t he? I just told my Ma I was practicing my therapy and went to sit in Central Park to draw the Stark Tower over and over again, unable to help the smile on my face when the familiar sound of whooshing announced Iron Man’s arrival overhead._

_“He sure is something, isn’t he?” I heard one of the ladies nearby whisper to her friend._

_“So handsome, and rich, too,” the friend giggled back, “Can you believe that’s Mr. Stark?”_

_I heard my pencil creak in my hand and quickly loosened my grip, not wanting to snap another one of my good pencils. I’d already broken two, and I only had one left; if I kept this up, I wasn’t going to have any, and money was too tight to waste on good pencils. Ignoring their talk, I took a breath and kept drawing, sticking in my headphones to block out the people._

_I started on a portrait. Mr. Stark was easy to remember: other than the trademark goatee, his bright, doe-like eyes were so warm and practically unforgettable, especially when framed by such dark, long eyelashes. I’d barely finished outlining his jaw when the bench I was sitting on creaked, so I scooted over without looking up to give the other person room. I bit my tongue between my teeth and focused, alternating between my smudge tool and my pencil as I worked on the swoop of his nose until I was satisfied. Yeah, the man was easy to bring to my mind, but that didn’t mean he was easy to draw._

_I was unashamed of my drawings at this point. As an art student, you had to do what you had to do, so I decided Mr. Stark would make a good study in nude—at least, the top half. Everyone knew he had that object in his chest: the arc reactor, glowing blue under his tight shirts and suits. As a technophile myself, despite not actually being very good at handling technology, I went with a steampunk theme, sketching it out like a crystal suspended in a glass orb, cogs and gears and pipes connecting it to Mr. Stark’s body. Distantly, I hoped the person next to me would leave so I could draw the bottom half without embarrassment, but they stayed so I worked on shading what I had, forcing myself to guess on his nipple size when I colored them in._

_No sooner had I finished it that my bench partner tapped my shoulder. Annoyed, I took out my headphones and turned, only to gasp at the amused face looking back at me._

_“Uh,” I said intelligently._

_“Pretty good, kid. More flattering than in real life, though,” Mr. Stark said, looking over his sunglasses at the sketchbook in my lap, “How old are you? Still in school?”_

_“I’ll be thirty-one in the summer,” I answered, narrowing my eyes, “And no, I left after one year due to the draft. I just do this for coping and therapy now.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Seems I’d managed to shut up the man famously known for being unable to stop talking. I turned back to the drawing to keep shading, pretending that the pin-up I was practically drawing wasn’t actually sitting next to me._

_“Does—does it help?” he asked after a minute with clear hesitation, his long fingers tapping against his thigh, “The drawing. Does it help?”_

_I looked back up at him, figuring he was kidding, but he didn’t laugh, so I nodded._

_“Sometimes. Not always, but it’s relaxing for after a nightmare,” I said quietly, offering him half of a smile, “It doesn’t chase it away completely, but the more I get it down on paper, the more I can forget it in my mind. Cleanses it, you know?”_

_“I—I don’t know, but I trust you,” he answered, fiddling with his hands between his knees, “Do—is there a class for it? Or a technique? Or like—”_

_“Would you like to try?” I interrupted him, surprising myself with my rudeness, “Oh, god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just—if you—if you want help, I can help. I’m not that great of a teacher, but if I can help—”_

_“Yeah. I’d—I’d like to learn,” Mr. Stark said, seeming just as surprised at his answer as I did from my offer, “Tomorrow? Same time? Right here?”_

_“Yeah,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt, “I’ll bring extra supplies. Just—you bring yourself. Okay?”_

_“Okay,” he said while looking at his phone, presumably making a reminder._

_He looked up and met my eyes again, holding his hand out._

_“Tony,” he said, “Tony Stark.”_

_I took his hand and shook it._

_“Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.”_

Fumbling with his phone, Tony hit his speed dial, impatiently tapping the composition book as he waited for the line to connect.

“Hey, love. What’s up?” Steve’s voice finally said.

“You better write me a goddamn _essay_ and finish this damn thing, or I’m divorcing you.”

Steve’s laughter filled his ear and Tony smiled, silently thanking whoever was out there for giving him the best husband in the world.


End file.
